Lives of their own
I've never had much trouble with electricity and electrical gadgets until I moved to Wales. Things always worked more or less consistently and power cuts were very few and far between, apart from the so-called Winter of Discontent back in the seventies of course.
But here, power cuts happen surreptitiously. I can come home in the evening or get up in the morning to find that the clock on the microwave needs resetting or the answerphone is blinking and Sky goes off if there's so much as a hint of stormy weather ahead. And then there are the times that things around the house mysteriously develop a life of their own.
The washing machine decided today that washing the clothes was fair enough, spinning them was just too much trouble.
The kettle has become temperamental too. Now and again it boils... and boils... and won't switch off.
The digital radio in the bedroom refused to work while I was away last week but has behaved perfectly since my return.
And then there's Keith's grey computer (not the yellow one, you understand, the grey one). When I'm sitting alone in the living room late at night on my laptop and Keith's computer suddenly whirrs unbidden into life - well, it's a bit unnerving, to say the least.
But then, this is Wales.
You get used to it.
But here, power cuts happen surreptitiously. I can come home in the evening or get up in the morning to find that the clock on the microwave needs resetting or the answerphone is blinking and Sky goes off if there's so much as a hint of stormy weather ahead. And then there are the times that things around the house mysteriously develop a life of their own.
The washing machine decided today that washing the clothes was fair enough, spinning them was just too much trouble.
The kettle has become temperamental too. Now and again it boils... and boils... and won't switch off.
The digital radio in the bedroom refused to work while I was away last week but has behaved perfectly since my return.
And then there's Keith's grey computer (not the yellow one, you understand, the grey one). When I'm sitting alone in the living room late at night on my laptop and Keith's computer suddenly whirrs unbidden into life - well, it's a bit unnerving, to say the least.
But then, this is Wales.
You get used to it.
Christmas Day
Christmas day is when Keith and I take off into the wilds of North Wales for a picnic .... at least it usually is ...except for this Christmas day.
This Christmas day I had the beginnings of a migraine when I woke up. Not to worry, I assured Keith, it would soon go and I really wanted us to go out. After all it's so long since we last had a drive out. So off we went but by the time we reached Cerrigydrudion, Keith took matters into his own hands and decided that the corpse-like passenger beside him needed to go home to bed.
So we didn't even get as far as Pentrefoelas, which, as my regular readers will no doubt remember, is the only place in Wales which has accessible toilets on Christmas day.
Personally, I blame the brandy and Martini that Keith forced me to drink on Christmas Eve.
This Christmas day I had the beginnings of a migraine when I woke up. Not to worry, I assured Keith, it would soon go and I really wanted us to go out. After all it's so long since we last had a drive out. So off we went but by the time we reached Cerrigydrudion, Keith took matters into his own hands and decided that the corpse-like passenger beside him needed to go home to bed.
So we didn't even get as far as Pentrefoelas, which, as my regular readers will no doubt remember, is the only place in Wales which has accessible toilets on Christmas day.
Personally, I blame the brandy and Martini that Keith forced me to drink on Christmas Eve.
7 things I'm pleased about this year
Saw this and pinched it from Ellee's blog. I'm sure she won't mind:
Finishing my book.
Starting my second book.
Getting full time work in a lovely school.
Decorating by myself - first time ever.
Persuading Keith to get rid of the top tier of NASA
Starting my counselling placement.
Having done the first quarter of my 100 hours of placement.
For those of you who don't know the story of NASA, the photo is included.
Politically correct seasons greetings
TK sent me this today, so I'm passing it on. Enjoy...
From me ("the wishor") to you ("the wishee"):
Please accept without obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the summer/winter* (*delete as applicable) solstice holiday, practised within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious orsecular traditions at all.
Further, I wish you a financially successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2007, but with due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures or sects, and having regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform or sexual preference of the wishee.
By accepting this greeting you are bound by these terms that :
* This greeting is subject to further clarification or withdrawal.
* This greeting is freely transferable provided that no alteration shall be made to the original greeting and that the proprietary rights of the wishor are acknowledged.
* This greeting implies no promise by the wishor to actually implementany of the wishes.
* This greeting may not be enforceable in certain jurisdictions and/or the restrictions herein may not be binding upon certain wishes in certain jurisdictions and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wishor.
* This greeting is warranted to perform as reasonably may be expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.
* The wishor warrants this greeting only for the limited replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishor.Any references in this greeting to "the Lord", "Father Christmas", "Our Saviour", "Rudolph the red nosed reindeer" or any other festive figures,whether actual or fictitious, dead or alive, shall not imply any endorsement by or from them in respect of this greeting, and all proprietary rights in any referenced third party names and images are hereby acknowledged.
From me ("the wishor") to you ("the wishee"):
Please accept without obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the summer/winter* (*delete as applicable) solstice holiday, practised within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious orsecular traditions at all.
Further, I wish you a financially successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2007, but with due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures or sects, and having regard to the race, creed, colour, age, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform or sexual preference of the wishee.
By accepting this greeting you are bound by these terms that :
* This greeting is subject to further clarification or withdrawal.
* This greeting is freely transferable provided that no alteration shall be made to the original greeting and that the proprietary rights of the wishor are acknowledged.
* This greeting implies no promise by the wishor to actually implementany of the wishes.
* This greeting may not be enforceable in certain jurisdictions and/or the restrictions herein may not be binding upon certain wishes in certain jurisdictions and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wishor.
* This greeting is warranted to perform as reasonably may be expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.
* The wishor warrants this greeting only for the limited replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishor.Any references in this greeting to "the Lord", "Father Christmas", "Our Saviour", "Rudolph the red nosed reindeer" or any other festive figures,whether actual or fictitious, dead or alive, shall not imply any endorsement by or from them in respect of this greeting, and all proprietary rights in any referenced third party names and images are hereby acknowledged.
Teacher denies Santa's existence!!!
Last evening's BBC news was full of the story about a teacher in a primary school who had insinuated to the pupils that Father Christmas did not really exist. There were interviews with 'the man himself' as well as with parents and dark talk of said teacher being hung, drawn and quartered - or something similar. The following thoughts passed through my mind:
The children in question were 9 and 10 year olds. In all my teaching career, I have only known of one child of that age who still believed in Santa so they were hardly likely to be too traumatised.
Why, when it is now recommended by our wonderful politicians that children as young as 5 should be being introduced to the facts of life, is it so awful that the question of the existence of Father Christmas should be raised with 9 and 10 year olds?
However, a far more pressing concern arose this morning when Declan on 'BBC Breakfast' interviewed Father Christmas. Whilst last night, Father Christmas's accent was decidedly of a Midlands persuasion, this morning, he was definitely West Country.
Now how do you explain that to the children?
The children in question were 9 and 10 year olds. In all my teaching career, I have only known of one child of that age who still believed in Santa so they were hardly likely to be too traumatised.
Why, when it is now recommended by our wonderful politicians that children as young as 5 should be being introduced to the facts of life, is it so awful that the question of the existence of Father Christmas should be raised with 9 and 10 year olds?
However, a far more pressing concern arose this morning when Declan on 'BBC Breakfast' interviewed Father Christmas. Whilst last night, Father Christmas's accent was decidedly of a Midlands persuasion, this morning, he was definitely West Country.
Now how do you explain that to the children?
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